


i am cast about by the towering waves of cruel fate

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) References, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Teacher Steve, Twenty-Somethings, bc i love u nik, engineer bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: Bucky has been in love with Steve since he was a kid, and it's kind of ruining his life. Too bad Steve has never showed any interest in him back.Then one night, Steve stays over too late and has to spend the night at Bucky's apartment. He only has the one bed.Birthday present for Nik (@princess-of-the-worlds)!





	i am cast about by the towering waves of cruel fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessoftheworlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/gifts).



> Title is from a B99 quote which in its entirety is: "Nothing's okay. Wuntch is circling me like a shark frenzied by chum. The task force turning into a career-threatening quagmire. An Internal Affairs investigation casting doubt upon my integrity. And you ask, is everything okay? I am buffeted by the winds of my foe's enmity and cast about by the towering waves of cruel fate. Yet I, a Captain, am no longer able to command my vessel, my precinct, from my customary helm, my office. And you ask, is everything okay? I've worked the better part of my years on earth overcoming every prejudice and fighting for the position I hold, and now I feel it being ripped from my grasp, and with it the very essence of what defines me as a man. And you ask, is everything okay?" -- Captain Holt
> 
> This is for Nik, my amazing friend and beta, a light in my life, whose birthday was August 3rd! Ilysm and I hope you had a wonderful birthday <3
> 
> I had no plan when I wrote this except that I wanted it to be fluffy which it sorta is??? Anyway please enjoy

There’s a knock on Bucky’s door, at the same time that the oven beeps and the TV plays the theme music of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, signalling that it’s back from the commercials.  _ Why is it, _ he wonders as he pulls the oven open,  _ that the commercials are always ten times longer when I’m watching the TV? _

Pizza secured on the counter and blazing hot, Bucky books it to the door. He doesn’t pause to think about the fact that he’s in his Gross Pajamas, namely his ratty ARMY shirt and pj pants covered in cartoon fast food. It’s not like his guest hasn’t seen him in worse (Bucky can’t help but wince at the memory of the time Bucky wore a puke covered Power Rangers shirt in fifth grade; it’s not his fault his baby sister couldn’t hold it in right over the laundry).

The door opens, and there’s Steve, looking way too fancy for this time of day. Night. Whatever, Bucky’s on engineer hours and that means the regular person’s 10 pm is 4 am for Bucky. Steve’s schedule is much more aligned to society, as is his life.

“Hey , pal,” Steve says, smiling widely. “Took you long enough.”

“I had to get the pizza outta the oven, asshole,” Bucky laughs, tugging his oldest friend into a hug. Steve pounds his back, the hug holding on a little longer than usual. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Steve says, stepping inside. “Don’t tell me it’s pineapple.”

“If I ever put pineapple on a pizza and it’s not a prank or joke or something, I’m gonna need you to kill me.”

T h at gets him a good laugh, and a solemn promise to do just that. “I’ll have to kill myself right after,” Steve adds, slipping out of his shoes and setting his backpack down on the floor next to them. “Is that B-9-9 I hear?”

“Yup! Can you go rewind back to the end of the commercial? I gotta get the pizza on plates.”

“Sure. Make sure I get more than you, ‘kay?” Steve smiles at him, and retreats into the living room.

“Never,” Bucky promises, chuckling. Once back in the kitchen and away from Steve’s eyes, he lets his smile drop. He loves all these nights watching TV with his best friend, but they’re putting a strain on his heart, which is only as strong as he can make it (which is to say, not very). God, as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, his crush on Steve is a life-ruining one, and he’s had it since they were kids. Spending all this time with him, in the privacy of Bucky’s home, on his couch, eating his pizza and watching his shows, having long, drawn-out conversations… it’s making it a lot harder than it’s ever been to hide it. 

Bucky thinks back to when they were both in high school, and he was on the verge of telling Steve every single day.  It had been physically painful to keep it in.

Okay, a lot harder than it’s ever been, except for high school. That’s better.

He cuts the pizza with all the ease and practice of someone who worked at Pizza Hut for three years. Trying not to think about it, Bucky gives Steve an extra slice.

When he takes the plates out to Steve, who’s sitting with the TV paused, Steve clearly notices. He glances at his plate and then to Bucky’s face, eyes narrowing a fraction. He doesn’t say anything though, just presses play.

They sit there through several episodes, finishing off the pizza and the rest of the orange Crush Bucky had in his fridge. They switch to The Quiet Place in honor of Jim Halpert (Bucky refuses to say John Krasinski), Steve joking it’ll be just like old times.

“Those old times included marathons of Friends and then copious rewatching of Scary Movie, Stevie. They simply don’t compare.”

“Are you saying Friends and Brooklyn Nine-Nine aren’t on the same level? Because I will fight you.”

“I’m saying that Friends was a good show that stupidly ignored all common sense and has terrible plotlines and has zero continuity  and maybe one whole person of color. Also, the only LGBT characters were treated terribly . You know what can be said about Brooklyn Nine-Nine? It doesn’t do the best job of dealing with police brutality, and that’s about it. When Friends has just one thing wrong with it, come back and we’ll talk.”

Steve tries to glare but is laughing too hard to sustain it, and shakes his head. “Fine, fine, you win. We should watch the movie, though, before it gets too late and I have to leave.”

“I’ve told you a million times before, you can stay the night. I don’t like you being out alone so late. You’re asking to get mugged, or worse.”

“Buck, you only have the one bed, and I’m not gonna make you give it up. Plus this couch is lumpy as shit. Neither one of us should be sleeping on it.”

Bucky sighs and gives it up, not saying anything and turning the movie on.

Two hours later (accounting for the movie being an hour and a half, as well as Steve getting a postmate’d order of cinnamon rolls from somewhere, and a few minutes of enjoying the delicious cinnamon rolls), breath still caught in his throat  out of pure fear , Bucky stands  and stretches . He starts to pick up all the trash, but Steve says, “Nope,” and takes it right out of his hands. “You made dinner, I’ll clean up.”

“You bought dessert,” Bucky challenges, but really, he doesn’t mind not having to clean.

“ T hose rules apply to guests only, and I’m not a guest.” Steve saunters into the kitchen at that point, leaving Bucky unable to respond.

_ You’re right, _ he thinks,  _ you’re not a guest. You’re family. _

But not like that. Steve has never been like that. Even when they were kids, so close they bathed together, Bucky has never thought of Steve as his brother.

When Steve comes back into the living room, he heads straight for his phone. Bucky watches as he checks the time, and curses.

“What time is it?” Bucky asks.

“It’s 12:38,” Steve says. “I need to go.”

“Steve, I’m serious about staying over. It’s not a burden, or whatever you’re thinking.”

“But -- “

“Look, I don’t want you to go out there and walk home by yourself. I don’t care how big your muscles are,” he teases, trying to soften it so Steve won’t go on the defensive.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other. Then Steve asks, “You’re positive it’s okay?”

“Yes, cross my heart and hope to die positive.”

“Don’t say that,” Steve admonishes.

Bucky smiles, pleased at the worry in Steve’s voice. He always has believed in that stuff. “Okay, Stevie. Now, let me go get the bed set up -- “

“I told you, I’m not taking your bed from you.”

“And I told you, the couch sucks.”

“Actually,  _ I _ said that.”

“Then you know why I don’t want you to sleep on it!” He throws up his hands in exasperation.

“I’m not gonna let you sleep on the stupid couch, either. This isn’t a one way street, Buck.”

Stupidly, Bucky blurts out, “Well, if I’m not letting you sleep on the couch, and you won’t let me sleep on it, I guess we’re gonna be sharing the damn bed.”

His heart stops beating in his chest, or at least it feels like it does.  _ Did I really just say that? _ He wonders.

Steve’s jaw jumps, and he says, “I guess so,” like he’s actually angry over this petty fight.

The fifteen year old in him, hopelessly in love with his best friend, is screaming. It’s like a buzz in his ears, and it doesn’t go away for the next half hour that they spend getting ready for bed. Literally, bed, singular,  _ Bucky’s bed _ .

Bucky sleeps in his boxers most nights, but tonight he  keeps on the ARMY t-shirt, too. Steve is wearing long pajama pants but no shirt. Incidentally, Bucky feels like he can’t breathe as he lays down.

They haven’t slept in the same bed since college. And even then, Peggy was between them, or Sam that one time. Those beds were a lot smaller, so Bucky was left to hug the wall, lest he cuddle up with Peggy or Sam or Steve.  N o w though, he’s an adult with an adult bed that’s not pushed up against a wall, so he can’t exactly do that.

He hugs the edge  instead, scared of cuddling and knowing what that’s like , and can’t help but notice the small frown on Steve’s face  as he comes into the room . What does it mean? Is he still mad? Would he rather not share?

For some reason, Bucky is tempted to say “no homo”.  _ It’s  _ very  _ homo, _ he thinks.

Steve doesn’t say anything as he lays down, too, other than a single, “ _ Shit _ ,” when he realizes it’s up to him to turn the lamp off. It’s on his side after all, and Bucky usually turns it off before getting in to lay down.

Bucky laughs once Steve’s back in bed, and it breaks the odd tension in the air.

“Shuddup,” he grumbles, but there’s humor there, too.

“Did you think I was gonna get it or something?”

Steve groans and pulls the blanket up over his head.

Two hours later, the only sound in the room is the fan and Steve’s snoring. And Bucky is still awake. It’s not for lack of trying, but no amount of telling himself stories or trying to clear his mind has worked. He’s lucky he’s got tomorrow off.

Flat on his back, he’s just staring at the ceiling. His awareness of Steve next to him is turned up to eleven, every movement and sound making him jolt.

Bucky sighs, turning his head to look at Steve. He’s drooling, just a little, which Bucky decides immediately will not be lived down,  _ ever _ . Hair flopping forward and sticking in all sorts of directions, he’s snuggled into the pillow. One of his hands is tucked under his chin, while the other is laying on his stomach, only exposed because he’s kicked the blanket down. In short, he’s beautiful.

Heart throbbing painfully in his chest, Bucky closes his eyes and turns away. Steve will never be his, probably ever. Yeah, he’s been with guys before, but that doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean he’ll ever want Bucky, or be willing to risk their lifelong friendship. Bucky wouldn’t either -- having Steve as a friend is a lot more important and bearable than not having him at all. Times like these, yeah, it hurts. It hurts a lot. But Bucky has been dealing with these emotions for so long, he’s used to the pain.

Tears don’t prick his eyes. He’s not a child anymore. The only things that make him cry these days are news stories -- not ridiculous feelings for Steve.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

M oments from their childhood come back to him -- thinking he was going to marry Steve for two whole years before one of his uncles instilled it in him that he could only marry a woman; going swimming and not being able to look away from Steve; his first kiss and only thinking about Steve, and how Steve’s lips would feel; dreaming about him so often, it was embarrassing; going to the gym with him and failing horrifically at hiding his boners; and hiding in the bathrooms at prom, because his date was beautiful and he liked her but she wasn’t  _ Steve _ .

God, why is he thinking about this? Why tonight? It’s been years. By now, it’s obvious that nothing will ever happen, and he just needs to get over it. Steve has never showed any interest --

“Buck,” Steve sighs from next to him. And then his hips shift forward, with intent,  _ purpose _ , and Steve groans low in his throat, his face pinking up. Bucky thinks,  _ oh shit _ . 

It’s gonna be a fucking long night.

**Author's Note:**

> go follow Nik @ princess-of-the-worlds on tumblr
> 
> also me @ jedormis on tumblr
> 
> also also please comment i'll love you forever


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